Promises (Warnings Inside!)
by major-fangirl-in-here17
Summary: Isabel Soto, many didn't know about her, until her father drags her to a World Meeting. This causes a downhill of events; from her kidnapped daughter, to finding out that America stole their children. Watch her life change for the turn of the worse, and how her family and friends try to piece her back together. Have I mentioned try? (Bilind!Mexico, Human names used, Modern AU)
1. Chapter 1

_**Warnings! Under-aged drinking and drug usage, panic attacks, attempted murder, one-sided relationships, mental disorders, blind people, horrid treatment to others, bullying, some-what acurate and historical events, and utter completer wack. And I am not saying this again. It's the only warning you get, so if you have/get feelzy for anything of this, and yell at me later is not my fault after this chapter.**_

**I know that most of you don't not want to even lay eyes on this rant, but it is necessary. This is Mexico, so expect a lot of Spanish. Long sentences in Spanish. So, while reading this, have something like, oh I don't know, Google translate close by, or ask nicely for me to translate these sentences. For that to happen I need at least 5 people to ask me. Also, if the dialogue seems funny, it is okay. In Spanish that is how dialoge is written, so you have to get used to it. Rant over, continue reading. **

* * *

People say that blindness leads to weakness.

That was never my case.

I learned to use my other senses to guide me in my immortal life. My fingers can now "see" colors through them. My ears can distinguish the smallest of sounds, like the beating of hearts from each person.

However, being in a loud environment renders me useless.

One of these places include the airport of Adolfo Suarez Madrid-Barajas, in the middle of the city of Madrid, Spain. I strained my ears to listen for anyone in familiar, but I had no luck.

One shout brought that luck back around.

"¡Oye! ¿Dónde estas?"

Excuse me, my manners have slipped through my mind right now. Must be the noise in the airport. My name is Isabel Soto, but you can call me La Mexicana, or Mexico as many of you English speakers know. The voice was my papí, Antonio Fernandez-Carriendo, or Spain.

"¡Aquí! ¡Aquí estoy!"

I shout throwing my hand up in the air, hoping that by some miracle he does not lose me a-mist the ocean of people. In what seemed an eternity of standing in the chaos, I was greeted by strong, soothing arms and a familiar heartbeat.

"¡Dios Mio! I thought I lost you!" I quipped, A deep rumble erupted from his chest.

"I wouldn't lose you just like that. Plus, Roma would be mad if I would have lost you!" he replies, smoothing out some of my stray hairs, careful to leave the small, unruly curl, located at the top of my head, alone.

"Wait! He is here? Where?"

"Back at home. Now come on, we need to get back home, in order to make it back in time."

He took hold of the large suitcase, while I dragged my smaller suitcase behind. His unoccupied hand took hold of my own as he guided me through who knows where. We stopped momentarily, the sound of a door opening reaching my ears. He guided me into a seat, and cautiously buckled a strap of leather across my shoulder. A while passed, most likely that he was loading the luggage somewhere, before I hear a door opening to my left, a sigh, a snap of something into place, and a jangle of metal. Something clicked into my head, making me realize where we were at the moment.

"¿Me metiste en un automobile, verda?" I growled.

"Sí, y se que no te gustan," he replies.

"Whatever, so what are we doing later anyway?"

He goes into detail as of what we, oops I mean he, was planning. He had called a meeting, between many of the major countries, to introduce, well me. Only a handful of people know that I am Mexico. He tells me that he was invited a couple of friends before hand, so I can get familiar with them.

"Okay, that is enough. Now tell me, please, how the landscape is."

He begins to rant again how the streets look like, his favorite places, the one pub in which he got a fight with one of his drunken friends, and so forth. I begin to imagine every situation he tells me, laughing at the idiotic things he has done with his old age. Before long, the car ride of hell was over.

More sounds filled my ears, telling me exactly what was going on. My dad getting out of the car, him taking out the luggage, him opening the door, helping me with my seatbelt and grabbing my hand, helping me out of the car. My nose was greeted by the smell of familiar fruit and delicate pastry my dad once taught me before I was cursed by this horrid blindness. I took careful steps against the stone walkway leading to my dad's house, hoping that I wouldn't make myself look stupid in front of his friends. A creak of metal tells me that the door to the front, or back, had opened.

"¡Hola! ¡Ya llege!" Toni yells. The house remained silent. Then a voice caused my veins to go ice cold.

"Bounjuor! You are here! And who may this pretty mademoiselle be?"

_Nope, nope nope, nope this can't be happening!_ I thought to myself. The man who caused me and my family so much pain on that fateful day of May 5, is nothing more than my father's friend.

The man who caused me to lose my eyesight, and the last time in which I saw my family and horrid destruction with them.

"Who i-is h-he?" I stuttered with fear. I felt as if my papi looked at me with a que-te-pasa-estas-loca kind of face.

"Chamaca, ponte atenta, que este hombre parado enfrente de ti es mi buen amigo Francis Bonnefóy, ó comó muchos lo conocen, Francía."

I felt my own blood drain from my face. They seemed to notice right away.

"¿Mi amor, what's wrong?" came the innocent question out of my father's lips.

My fear was instantly replaced by anger.

"Really? You ask me if I am okay, when you put the man who caused me to go blind, who ATTACKED MY DAMN COUNTRY," I inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly trying not to let my temper get the best of me, "in which he almost murdered one of your grand-kids, in which I sacrificed myself, my eyesight," I finish, venom dripping heavily from my lips.

I heard his heart pump furiously.

"It was you all of this time," he pauses, "we will need to talk later, France," he finished, adding emphasis in the word France. Another set of footsteps walked into the room.

"Kesesesesese! France is in trouble. Und, who is this?"

"I am La Mexicana, and you must be my father's friend. Do come closer." I insist.

"Kesesese! I see, I am zhe awesome Pru- I mean Gilbert," he replied, while walking in my direction.

"Oh, so you are Prussia. Now if you can only crouch a bit, okay that is perfect," I instructed, in which he followed sluggishly. Slowly, I placed both of my hands on his cheeks, moving my way around his face.

"Why are you doing this?" he murmured, heat seeping through his cheeks.

"Bueno, how do you think I can guess how you look like, idiota?" Now what color are your eyes? I whispered back.

"Red," he finished.

I took a step back, and built his face in my mind. as far as what I see, he does not seem that old, maybe twenty-five at most, subtle cheekbones, a glimpse of some pallid strands of hair, cocky smile, and to finish it off, those ruby eyes.

"So I am guessing that jou are blind, nein?"

I sighed. "Unfortunately, yes, by the idiot you see there," I clucked.

"Potato bastard, where are you!" fast paced footsteps came rushing in to this room. Panting was stopped short, only for me to get attacked from an unknown person.

"Ciao bella! I didn't think you would have a made it!" a heavily accented Italian voice reached my ears.

"¡Hola Roma!" I squealed back, taking him into a tight embrace. His body stiffened, not prepared for the reaction I would of had, but soon melted into the embrace.

"Are you ready to go kick some butt later?"

"Let me at least get settled first before ass gets kicked. Roma can you show me to my room?"

"Sure. Just give me a minute to get your things."

Noises were heard throughout the room, mostly footsteps and wheels rolling around on the floor, then someone's arm hooked at my elbow, dragging me to who knows where in the house. I ended up tripping over my own feet, being dragged carelessly through hallways.

"Watch where your going idiota!" I huff, trying to catch up to the man before me. He suddenly stopped, before opening a door, leading to what I believe is going to be my guest room for this weekend. Romano pushed me inside, bringing the suitcase with him. He shut the door immediately after that.

"Okay, Roma, since I do not trust anyone in the house besides you and papá, you need to help me get ready for later."

"What? Do I look like some type of chaperon to you, idiota?" he retorted

"Did I ask you, idiota? No, so get me my large suitcase." I command, taking off the sweatshirt I had on. I was sure that he began to blush when I lazily removed my shirt, leaving my torso exposed.

"Here it is, anything else you need?" he stuttered. A pregnant pause followed, causing an uncomfortable silence between the both of us.

I cleared my throat, awkwardly noting the situation that I had created.

"Sorry about that," I tell him, "can you get me my blue dress that I have in there. After that, you can leave."

Judging by the amount of noise being made, he was glad that I had offered him that option. He handed me the piece of cloth in my hand, and hastily walked out the door.

When the door closed behind him, I began to prepare myself, physically and mentally, for what was about to come.

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**So now that you are at the end, need to tell you something else. I modeled much of Isabel's character power thing from Iggy (no not this Iggy) off of Maximum Ride. Follow,favorite, and review! Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2

What is this feeling?

This feeling is new, something that does not feel good.

I believe it is called being claustrophobic.

I really had never been in a situation in which I felt claustrophobic. Maybe now because I am sitting between the Prussian guy and the French bastard. Yeah best place to be, especially in a car.

Romano decided that he would join our little group, huffing that he would be there for my support only, though I am sure that he is going for more than just me. He just does not care to admit it.

The passengers remained silent for a good portion of the ride, until I asked a horrible question that was about to test my sanity.

"¿Èl va estár allí?"

This man that I have mentioned, is in fact my ex, another country. Whom he allegedly decided to proclaim war on me, while taking away our child when he was barely able to talk.

"Lo malo es que sí, si va estár allí," dad replies, growling through his teeth.

Bueno, lo que paso, paso.

"Ahora sí, ese fregado va a ver de lo que estoy hecha, pendejo," I seethe through my teeth. The people sitting next to me jumped a bit out of their respective seats, scooting closer to the door, trying to get as far way from me as possible. I don't blame them, my temper does get the best of me. However, I swore I heard one of them squeak under their breath:

"She is just like Russia!"

I had no clue on who the hell this Ruso character may be, or how my temper is just like him.

Thank goodness for the fact that the meeting hall was in fact along Calle Gran Via, in Madrid, about a twenty minute drive. In fact, leaving the car proved that the nations following in the back were scared out of their wits.

My father, being the host of the meeting, had to arrive much earlier than any of the other countries, to make sure all of the other countries had the right commodities and the right paper work ready for each of them in their native languages. He managed to push me in a seperate room, making Romano and Prussia stay for company.

Noises made their way from the other side of the door, I'm guessing that the chefs are preparing the food for the others. Naturally, the cook in me craved, longed to be in the kitchen.

"Hey, La Mexicana, or whatever you name is, what do we do, while everyone gets here?"

"Well, I did bring something that might keep us from getting bored," I grin.

Time to show them who I am, and what I can do.

* * *

**Third Person PoV**

Shreaks and laughter were what Spain could faintly hear through the large building. He would have gone and checked what the commotion was about, but was interrupted when _he_ walked into the room.

"¡Hola Spain! Watcha doin'?" said country asked.

The Spainard tried him very hardest not to punch the damn American in front of him. He clenched his fists quietly.

He decided that it was best for him if he kept up with his usual attitude

"¡Hola America! How are you?" he greeted cheerfully.

'All set and ready to go with some awesome ideas about.."

Spain dared not to listen to the American's chatter, for he knew that he will end up punching him in his gulf regions, and he was not about to kick his ass. Well at least not yet.

Minutes turned into hours, and finally everyone had arrived, it was time for the meeting to begin.

It was until about half-way through the meeting when things began to go awry. First thing was when a nation's cell phone had gone off.

"Tè estoy engañando con otra, ya estoy aca en el hotel," it rang loudy, bouncing off the wall. Many of the Latin-American countries stared at the man fumbling to retrieve and answer the phone, wondering why on earth he would have that of all ringtones playing.

"Weird, it's an unkown number," he mumbles. He picks up the phone, "Hello, hero speaking."

A female voice was faintly heard from the line. A blush crept along his pale face, along with a string of words jumbled together. More female voices joined into the other end of the line, making Alfred even redder than what he had been before.

The British man knew that something was wrong, but he was not about to admit it.

The call abruptly ended with him yelling at the electronic device, "¡No! ¡No quiero nada!"

The Spanish speaking countries were freaking out with that phone call. They knew who had made that phone call, but what worried them was where the hell that person was, and with whom she was with.

"What the bloody hell was that about, eh?" the British man ask the American.

Alfred shrugged. "Nothing really important, I guess."

Everyone stared back to the host of the meeting, and with his sweet smile he answered, "He might have gotten lucky tonight."

The other nations just sat there, mouths gaping like a fish out of the water. Alfred's blush returned worse than Romano's will ever be, and Russia, well, he was just chilling with that creepy smile on his face.

Not long after that stamement, two figures busted into the room.

They just happened to be Romano and Prussia, soaked to the bone.

"Idiota, why would you put us with her!"

"Yes were jou trying to kill us or something?"

"Calmado vos. What happened?" The Spaniard tried to keep his emotions in check, which proved to be a difficult task.

Damn did they look hilarious.

"She brought fucking water guns, that is what fucking happened!" Romano hollered. Silence ensued after that.

That was when everyone heard them.

Footsteps were faintly heard from the other side of the door.

"Verdamntt, she's coming! What do we do?" Gilbert whispered with much urgency laced into his frantic voice.

"¿Dónde están pendejos? Stop being such sissies and get your ass out from your damn hiding spot!" A feminine voice growled, getting closer to the door.

Antonio thought of something delightfully devilish, knowing well that he might get beat up for after.

"¡Hola hija! Aqui estoy, ven," he called out in the direction of the door.

The people who were hiding in the room, gave him the look which set his fate with them.

Damn, it was worth it.

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**By the way, the song used as the ringtone is by Calibre50 ****_Te estoy engañando con otra._**


	3. Chapter 3

**Still in Third Person**** PoV**

Double doors busted opened, revealing a ginger woman in a simple blue sun dress and flats, holding a water gun in one hand, and a small book in the other.

"Hi papí! Have you seen-," she stopped short when her face turned to where her targets were located.

"¡Hola! You missed me?" she asked in a bittersweet tone.

"I fucking hate you tomato bastard!" Romano would yell, and escape to the other side of the room. She would have gone chasing after him, but her father pulled her back.

"Hija, your manners?"

"Perdon papí," she then muttered and then took a seat next to where Spain was sitting, placing her items on the table.

Only to then promptly get back up and run to the American's chair.

"Girl,you look mighty fine today," he would utter, this voice turning husky with the last syllable of the sentence.

She would reply a way many of the countries did not rely on.

She slapped him hard across the face, and pushed him hard, making him topple out of his chair. The stare he gave her afterwards would be one she would have remembered for the next decade: a face of confusion. However she is blind so that may not happen.

"¿Ahora te haces del que no sabe nada, vera? Oh, but you should remember me Alfie, don't you?" she purred. His face turned into a nice shade of red.

"Oh hell, to the no! It was you!"

"Yeah it was me," she continued, whispering in his ear, "I was the one who called you. But you already know me from a long time ago," she paused.

"All of you know me! I recognise about three-fourths of the heartbeats here! Half of it being my brother and sisters, so I am only left with one-fourth whom heartbeats I recognize. The other fourth are bizarre and new to me," she called out.

The others seemed dumbfounded that this mortal woman, walk in and say that almost all of the people in here are familiar to her, and what the heck does she mean by heartbeats?

"Okay, I get it. I tend to forget that the world is so damn ignorant! I am La Mexicana, otherwise known as the country of Mexico! Now get out of your damn chair and get in a damn line so I can get a closer look on how each of you look like! And for fuck's sake, I'm blind! Blame the French dude who has a death threat by at least 30 damn countries, and all of my children!"

Her sudden outburst had everyone standing up for their turn to get seen by this woman nation, except those that she already knew. Those she would greet with a hug, unless they were France or America. They were too starstruck by her outburst that they were stuck with fear.

The first one up whom she did not recognize was England. He was hell of a damn nervous by this damn woman. More so after the shocked look America wore after her confession.

"Okay, I need you to do two things. One of them is telling me your eye color and your representation of whatever country you represent. And please, keep your damn face still, it messes up my image. So whoever is in front of me, ¿por favor?"

England took this as a cue, and gulped, afraid as of what this woman would do. "The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but England would be just fine," he stammered, "my eyes are a lime green."

The next thing she did was totally unexpected by what Arthur had in his mind. She slowly placed her hands on his shoulders, working her way up to his face. Thin calloused fingers worked their way around the small dips and bumps around his face, tippy-toeing up to the top of his head. Once she finished, she glomped him fiercely.

He was taken aback by her sudden action, standing still, afraid that she might tip both of them over.

"¡Súegro! I thought I would never meet you! Oh my god! I am your son's ex-wife!"

"What! Alfred F. Jones!" he hollered. Alfred gave him a sheepish grin, placing his hand on his neck.

"I'm sorry?" he asked. Arthur gave him the we-will-talk-later- look.

"Whatever next!"

The list went on, she began to realize how many people were in these meetings. A good hour had passed by when she finally reached to last person. Last said person, happened to be everyone's favorite country, Russia. **(A/N As in my fangirl universe)**

"I am Russia!" he said, his creepy aura surrounding him immediately after he said his sentence.

"Wait! I think I know you! Yeah I do! Remember how that one day in 1942 when Germany attacked you and how I had to come over? Then I had my original brown eyes and obsidian hair. Yeah it was you! Mucho tiempo sin verte Rusia."

Of course Russia was surprised. He didn't recognize her from the past, yet she recognizes him.

So, as the narrator would say it: Like what the fuck is going on?

After a moment of silence , she looked around and asked, "Any questions?"

America was the first one to blurt out, "What happened that made you change your appearance? What did you do to change your so called obsidian hair into you fiery hair?"

"I am so glad you asked that! Because papí does not even know, and he hasn't been too in touch since the past century or so. I will show you."

She grabbed the book laying on the table and flipped to a page. She began to mutter words no one understood, and the magic began to happen. Her fiery red hair changed to black, while her green eye changed back to brown. The realization hit everyone harder that a moving truck.

"Da, I do recognise you," Russia motioned to the changed woman standing in front on them. "Welcome back Mexico."

Poor Alfred. He just became more utterly confused.

Before any more questions were asked, another phone began to ring. Antonio pulled up his phone, and nearly threw it back down with the loud voice.

"Okay, ahorita te la paso," he muttered.

He handed it over to Isabel. She places it next to her ear, listening attentively, until;

"¿Como qué no está?"

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**Bamm! Hey guess who's back! What do you think I might write for the next chappie! Comment you ideas on this chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Today I have realized I have done a terrible thing xD. No Hetalia character is mine, because if they were, LietPol would have totally been canon by now. Also, Gabriel, personification of Texas, and the personifications of Nevada, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Utah, Colorado, and Wyoming are not mine. Those belong to the fanfabulous Kitten1313. Check her out!**_

_**Without furthur ado, the story!**_

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I see my father speak- well no, is actually hear, but you know what I am trying to say- to someone on the phone, and I immediately stood up. Something is going on at home, since only my brother calls when an emergency happens. He passes the phone over to me, in which I snatch it out of his grasp, and place it next to my ear.

That was when the bombshell fell.

"¿Comó que no está?"

My brother just told me that one of my children is not there. Kidnapped.

"Do you have any clue where she is?" I ask. My brother sighed.

"Perdón manita, but your children are looking for her, and they believe that she went on a field trip with 43 other classmates. We will get back to you on her soon. Adíos," he dismissed himself.

I collapsed to my knees, she couldn't have gone missing, not now! The holidays were so close, four months away. She was just there with me on my birthday.

"Hija, are you okay?" I hear a faint voice ask me. The pressure in my skull is unbearable. I collapse to my knees, clutching my head. I feel liquid poor out of my nose.

"Someone, get a doctor!" was the last thing I remember.

I was caught in a eternal abyss, waiting for the light to return to my eyes.

Figure of speech by the way, remember?

It took me a while to focus my hearing, sluggishly listening to faint heartbeats around me.

"Are you okay? Oh mein gott," a familiar voice asked in concern.

"Bruder, she'll be okay," a deeper voice mumbled.

"I think she is coming to," yet another voice spoke.

"¿Què pasa?" I slurred.

"She's awake!" one voice shouted in relief.

Then, I remembered.

"Where is my daughter? ¡Hija!"

I shouted frantically for her, slashing my arms around so get out of the way from the people surrounding me. I tried to get up, yet stumbled from the headache eating away at my brain.

"Isabel, calm down, please," the man kneeling next to me explained. That must be the doctor, yet he sounds so familiar. Might as well ask him.

"How the fuck do you know my name?" I managed to muster out of my mouth.

"Mom, do you not recognize your own son?"

"¿Gabriel, eres tu?"

"Sí, bueno, ¿piensas que ando haciendo nada durate el día? I have a degree to work in the ER, so I kind of have a right to be here."

"How the fuck are you in Spain?"

"I'm on a little tour with my girlfriend, when abuelo called me, saying that you were coming to the meeting, so he asked if I can be here for emotional support."

"And may I have the pleasure to meet my daughter-in-law?"

The room fell silent from all noise, in which it frightened me, for the feelings of anger imbedded deeply within one individual.

Namely, it had to be my foe.

"Ay caramba, no puede ser," I spoke, scratching the top of my head, while Gabriel helped me up, "mira m'ijo, I think that you might be dating French bastard's daughter. But, I think she will be a good woman for you, conste que she doesn't try to kill you."

I hear his ringing laughter echo across the room.

"Ay 'ama, you crazy! She is really sweet, and nothing compared to her father. Back to the present, who has gone missing?"

I began to hyperventilate.

Again.

Geez, I really need to visit my psychologist soon. Like right now.

"María Elena is gone!"

I feel some of the other countries stare at me, as if they thought there was at least another ten Maria's in my family.

Which is not really true, there is only three of them.

"Guerrero, geez is it that difficult?"

The room remained silent.

Until one person spoke.

"I vill help jou to find jour daughter," Gilbert spoke.

"And so will I," another man, whom's name is Roderich I believe, also spoke out.

I felt my heart soar with those words.

"I'l get my brothers and my tía to help," Gabriel confirmed to me.

With that my heart fell with a thump.

"I don't want your stupid American brothers to help me! They are all some lazy, good-for-nothing people!" I raged.

"No, not those American brothers, the Mexican-American brothers. Ma' did Pa never tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I inquire, the curiosity getting the best of me.

Let's hope I manage to make it through before I am at my breaking point.

"Your children never died at birth. He took them away from you once they were born," he casually finished off.

Well fuck.

"Gabriel! That was a secret, you dumb fuck! How dare you!"

"What? She was bound to find out someday!"

I was too numb to even speak. This was far too much news for me to handle in less than ten minutes.

Stupid American bastard. Stupid police force.

I was blinded with white rage and I can't seem to remember what happened next.

Again.

Someone get my psychologist here as soon as possible, please? Before someone dies.

* * *

**Third PoV**

Fists began to rain everywhere, most of them coming from the raging, bloodthirsty, mother.

America was scared out of his wits. He had never seen her this distressed. He noted that this was something different than before, when he had been called by Elíseo to help calm down the raging Mexican due to the revolting occurring in the nation's government.

How the fuck were they supposed to help her calm down?

"Move back. The awesome me will handle it!" the Prussian man exclaimed, pretty damn sure that he was about to fail.

But hey, he had to do something before someone would die. Not that he had a problem with it, but the had experienced too much bloodshed already.

_Let's hope that this works,_ he prayed silently.

He gave the Spaniard a thumbs up, and the Spaniard ran off to a separate room. Soft music began to play from the hidden apeakers across the room, spoken lyrics filling the room like butterflies.

" Daría lo que fuera por volverte a ver, daría hasta mi vida y mi fusil, mis botas y mi fe," the song continued.

The lyrics was mixed with guitars and drums and had made the woman to suddenly stop, and she began to listen to the music. Her body began to relax, swaying back and forth, as if moving with the beat.

Gilbert tried to reach for Isabel before she would collapse on the floor.

She had other plans.

Faster than a cheetah was Isabel able to pull out a pistol from a hidden pocket within her dress, aiming it straight at Gilbert's heart.

Only then did he truly realized the stated she was in.

Her eyes were glossed over, anger bleeding through them, like open wounds to her soul.

Eerily enough, her eyes were changing back and forth from the normal emerald, to a blood red.

Her hands began to shake violently, lowering themselves slowly. Her intent stare, however, never lost eye contact with Gilbert.

He tried to reach for the gun in her hands, without losing eye contact with his opponent.

Another quick move caused the gun to swing, and aim at someone unforeseen by anyone.

Bamm! The gun was fired, and figure fell to the floor, a pool of blood surrounding the open wound.

"ISABEL!" the voice of a man screeched as her lifeless body fell to the floor.

* * *

**I, comepletely being honest, had no clue how this chapter would end up. Hopefully that would be the last chapter to have a cliff-hanger like that. Hopefully, but no promises. Hehe. Oh and the song is called Volverte a Ver by Juanes**


	5. Chapter 5

**In the last chapter:**

_"ISABEL!" the voice of a man screeched as her lifeless body fell to the floor._

**And so it continues.**

* * *

Alfred was the first to reach the lifeless body.

He ran to the body on the floor, kneeling next to his ex-lover.

"What took you to these drastic measures?" he mumbled, while taking his ex-wife's head into his lap.

Tears began to fall down his cheeks, in which he quickly wiped away, fearing that someone might see him so broken.

He didn't expect someone to tackle him from the side.

"¿Viste lo que paso babóso? ¿Viste lo que-?" the representation of Chile broke down, stopping a fist in mid-air from hitting the American. He turned to look at his sister, and stood up. He kneeled next to his sister, taking her body into his arms, and gradually getting up, carefully avoiding the look on the American's face as he rose.

Damn, did his sister play it well. No one suspected a thing. He was the only one who knew about her little stunt.

Except maybe for one person.

And that person would bring her right back from the dead.

_**Flashback time**_

"Are you sure about this?"

Manuel was worried about her sister for the past couple of weeks since their father announced she would go to this meeting between the other countries.

"Yeah, I've been dying to try this spell out, and I pretty much mastered it. All I need if for you to keep it safe. It will be able to heal me from any "mortal" wound on my body."

"Okay, just stay safe."

_**End of Flashback**_

Manuel shook his head. He was thinking that she would jump out of a window or something, rather than shooting herself. Man was his sister stupid for trusting him.

He noted that his sobrino walked up to him, his eyes beady-like, tears threatening to flow out of them. He touched where her pulse would normally be, hoping that his mother would be alive.

His head drooped when he could not feel her pulse. He let the tears flow, not caring if his dad would see.

"She is dead," he managed to blurt out before breaking down into tears.

His family, whom were shocked by the ill-fated news, crowded by her body, mourning for her loss. Eduardo, the personification of El Salvador, scooped up his sister from Manuel's arms, and began walking out the door, mourners following in behind him.

"Wait!"

The crowd stared in wonder at the woman suddenly woke up, bullet wound gone, and laughter filling her eyes.

"Hey no need to be sad," she joked.

"What the fuck!" the crowd yelled

"Hey, Gabriel was the one whom saved me. He injected the antidote while he was looking for my pulse. So do me a fucking favor Eduardo, put me down."

He quickly set her down, helping her to get steady on her feet.

"Alright, those who want to help, come on, you get a free ride to my place, and be prepared to go scouting for my daughter," she shouted, "and America, " she turned to stare straight at him, "vamos hablar alrato de mis niños, alright?"

He nodded his head.

"Good. Let's start this man hunt!"

_**Somewhere else-**_

The room was dark, except for the small light bulb flickering momentarily, before casting an eerie blue hue in the center of the room. The voices of two men could be heard from outside the door, dragging along something with them. One of them opened the door, and began hauling a body into the room.

The two figures had tattoos running down their arms and are slim in figure. Each of their faces were doused in sweat, wearing scornful faces for having to do such a stupid job like this.

"The boss better pay us well for this," one of them said between heavy breaths.

"Could you stop complaining for once? Jeez, can't seem to shut up about the money. He"ll pay us when he wants to, end of the story."

Both figures stared at the body in front of them, hoping that their conversation had not awakened their victim.

"What should we tie her to? Cuz this needs to be done before the boss come and check."

"The bed, just in case it tries to escape," the other man said.

Both men began working in the poorly lighted room.

_**Back to the countries**_

Its quite a view when you see two Germans, a Swiss man, an American man, a French dude, a Russian fellow, a Japanese dude, an Austrian posh, a fellow Englishman and your motherland walking out of the same airport, in a group, going in the direction of two government owned limousines. Poor travelers at the airport in that hour. They had to run to the fight that had broken out between two of the men in the group.

Zooming in to the figures going to the direction of the car, the only woman was lead into the car by a blonde fellow with green eyes. They both entered into the car, followed by the Russian, the Japanese, and one of the Germans. The rest of the group piled in the other car.

"Isaber, where do you think she might be at?"

The personification of Mexico ran one of her delicate hands through her red mane.

"I have clues who might have her, not where she is," she seethed.

Ivan looked at her state of dismay. He had a connection with her, something not many can say. He had to give up his daughter, and did not know of her for many years, not until after the communist regime collapsed. He sighed, hoping that his niece could find her daughter, for it pained him to she her like this.

She took out her hand in the direction of Ivan, expecting something to be handed over. Ivan stared at her, confused at her plea.

"Do you have vodka?" was her gloomy reply.

Ivan stared wide-eyed. Of all the times, she going to turn back to alcohol.

"Nyet," was his one word reply.

"Stop fucking lying and give it to me you fuck-face before I decide to break your fucking face!

"Isabel, its best to stay calm and-"

"How the fuck do you expect to fucking stay calm when they can be torturing her, and fucking raping her! You just me to stay calm, when you couldn't keep you emotions in fucking check when America decided he wanted to become independent! Now shut up before I decide to kill you off. All of you," she glared down at everyone, before breaking down crying. Authur was too shocked to say anything, and the rest decided to keep their mouth shut and scoot as far away as possible.

Except for Russia.

He knew her pain, her agony, everything. He knows that she just needs to be comforted. He pulled her into his lap, and began rubbing her back.

"There, it is okay, it's okay," he cooed.

"It is not okay, it is not okay," she whimpered over and over, until she could not bear it anymore, and fell asleep, cuddled in the lap of her uncle.

* * *

**Yes I know, this chapter is far past overdue. But, I have college exams to take care of, no phone for a month, and in general very little time to write this (normally, I write it while I have free time in school). And a big writer's block. If you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know.**

**Much love from your fellow writer, major-fangirl-in-here17**


	6. Chapter 6

**So many are probably wondering how the fruk is Russia her uncle. So now, if you have gone to school, you would have know that thousands of years ago, people from Asia moved over to North America by the Bering Straight. So I like to say that Asia is North America's sibling. Asia had kids, one of them being Russia. North America had kids, one of the being the Aztec Empire. The Aztec Empire had Mexico with Spain. So in a way, Russia is technically her uncle. Yeah, head-canons.**

**Let us commence this story!**

* * *

"¡Hola, ya llege!"

The sound of her voice echoed throughout the halls.

"It seems that no one is home," Arthur pointed out.

"No shit Sherlock," she muttered.

Arthur was offended by her comment, but did not aswer back.

He feared her anger, and he was not about to cause another world war.

"MAMA where is everybody?"

"Your brother is in the yard, Eduardo is waiting with him. The rest are on their way," a female voice answered.

"Dude! That is like so cool! It is just like Jarvis from Iron Man!"

"Yeah, but can Jarvis do this?"

Immediately, a clock appeared on the closest table, showing the time. Of course the damn female voice had to just ruin it all.

"This house will self destruct in 3-2-1."

No one was prepared for the sudden explosion of confetti and balloons raining from the ceiling.

"¡Oye! ¡Vas a limpiar esto cabrona!"

"¡Si papí!"

She sneered at the fact that her brother acted more as a father figure than a brother figure.

"And don't call me that! You make me feel old!"

"Well it is not my fault that you are old!"

"You know what? Shut up!"

Two figures walked into the main reception room. One of them, the countries recognized as the personification of El Salvador, but only Russia and America knew about the second figure.

His lanky tall figure, caramel colored eyes, and sun-kissed skin was really hard to miss in the mist of chaos.

"Hey, what the fuck are these stupid white people in our house anyway? We can manage to find my niece without them," he vocalized, wearing a scorn expression across his face.

He hated when others came without his knowing. Especially like last time...

"Tampoco seas asi baboso, there are others missing too, and they wanted to help. Now, if anyone of you decides to fight, I am kicking you out of the room. Especially when my kids get here, and they find France here. Yeah they still hate you," she confessed casually.

This is not going to be the best trip for France.

* * *

It was dark, damp and musty.

That is what Maria Elena woke to. She had woken up with the sound of the door shutting behind her. Her mind thought of all the memories that happened up until this point.

The bloodshed. The bloody screams immediately being silence.

She had gone with her boyfriend on a school trip when-when-

She dared not to think on the next couple of events lest she cried. As her mother always told her, she can't show emotions, or she is going to end up hurting herself more than what had originally happened.

But now, this was different. The love of her life died being shot.

So for the first time in half a century, she cried.

She cried and wailed until she felt her throat sore and dry.

It was at the same moment when the door opened and someone walked in

* * *

"We meet here today, for the abduction of the personification of Guerrero, her boyfriend, and the other 42 students that has gone missing late in the afternoon yesterday. Today, on the 27th of September, we start this manhunt. My children can start looking within their states. The rest of us, can start looking in on the events that happened on the night of their disappearance, and in her state. Those whom hate the sight of blood, can immediately leave within the next two hours. Any questions, comments, or suggestions?"

After the sleeping arrangements where settled, and the rest of the guests had arrived, Isabel had called them all to the dining hall, and began the formal meeting.

"Yeah! I have something!"

A set of audible groans came from the foreign countries at the sound of the energetic voice of the American.

"So, if you are searching here and can't find her, then she could have gone to either up north or south, since she can't stay too far away from her birthplace. So what if, I call up my kids and ask them to look for her, and then you can call you brothers and sisters from Central America to look for her also? It speeds up the searching process, and we can start crossing off countries, so we have a smaller list to go by."

The nations stood starstruck by Alfred's proposal.

"Alright I see, so instead of searching like headless chickens, we have a direction of what's going on," Isabel spoke, as if trying to clarify what her ex-lover had said.

"Yeah," he replied.

"You finally make sense. Alright, I'll call them right now."

* * *

"Who are you?" she managed to say between sobs.

"It is a pity that I had to blindfold you, since you are such a pretty little thing. I bet France would love to be in your company right now, since you look so much like his beloved Jeanne d' Arc," a male voice shot back, "but I can't have you running away and telling others who kidnapped you. It took so much effort you know, distracting you. Ahh, but I loved it. Every. Single. Death. Especially Marco Antonio Gomez Molina," he giggled.

"Shut the fuck up! You are nothing but a cruel human being who kills and kidnaps other humans. You had no right to kill him that way! Dammit! Let me out so I can beat your body to nothing but a bloody pulp!"

The male figure clicked his tongue,"My, my, a feisty one you are, but who said I am a human?"

"W-wait, what?"

"Pity, I thought you would have recognized my voice already. It really is a shame, _hermanita,_" he spoke.

"Who the fuck are you!"

He scooted closer to where she was tied, and knelt down, whispering into her ear;

"It's me, Gabriel."

* * *

**By the way, Marco Antonio Gomez Molina is actually one of the students that has gone missing. And yes, I imagine the state of Guerrero the carbon copy of Jeanne d' Arc. It will be explained in the future. And yes I am such a fruked up human and gave you the best plot twist ever. xD I REGRET NOTHING!**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Also, this may be a filler chapter. A funny filler chapter, but a filler never the less. But, I think you will like it. _**

* * *

"Fuck no! I am not going to help you!"

It was up until after the other nations had gone to sleep, and It was at this time the personification of Mexico and Mexico City decided to have a chat.

"Come on Eliseo! We can't have them running around loose!"

"And fuck it up like last time?"

_**Flashback to 1970 **_

All he was doing was working his ass off in his field when he noticed something far into the distance.

"Who could that be in the middle of the summer heat? Especially now when we are busy in May?"

So he decided to walk over and investigate, and boy did he regret that decision.

At least fourteen countries were walking along that dirt road, seemingly lost, so he walked up to them, cautiously.

"Quien andan buscando?" he asked, afraid of a violent attack. The group looked at eat other, seemingly looking if one of them understood what he had just said.

"Hola! Que bien que llegaron! Bienvenidos! Welcome!"

Their faces changed to a more uplifting mood, and smiled, walking past Eliseo and straight to his sister.

"Que significa esto Isabella?"

"Well, este ano nos toco el Mundial! Ne estas feliz de eso?"

He knew this was going to be a long couple of months.

_**End of Flashback **_

"Well, it wasn't that bad," she confessed.

"Wasn't that bad? Osea when you went to the quarter finals, you almost killed off Romano. And you think that wasn't bad?"

"Okay, okay I see your point, you get to sleep in, but take care of the house, while we go out, yes?"

"Fine."

And with that they went to catch up with their much needed sleep.

* * *

"Why the fuck would you want me of all people? I mean, you could have taken our uncle, and like be done with it?"

Maria Elena was still struggling to remove the restraints from the chair,her blindfold off, while Gabriel was busy pacing the room, stopping every couple of moments to think, only to resume to pace again.

"You know what? Shut up before-"

His cell phone began to ring as he was pacing around. Without excusing himself, he left the room to see who was calling him.

Surprisingly, it was his father.

"Alright, this better be good," he mumbled to himself before picking up the phone with a cheery voice, "Hey what's up?"

"Hey bro! Thought you were up for a little task for me."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Would you mind looking for someone by the name of Maria Elena Soto? Your mom has been looking for her."

He smirked, "Sure dad, anything else?"

"Nah, that'll be good."

This should be fun.

Morning time!

He was awoken my extremely loud music being played downstairs.

He glanced at his phone, and cursed under his breath.

"Really it's seven in the morning! Who wakes up this early in the morning?"

Groggily, he got out of bed, and zombie-walked his way to the bathroom.

* * *

After a much needed shower, the got himself dressed, and walked downstairs.

"Morning sleepyhead! Thought you would never get up!"

"Really! You are the crazy one waking up early in the morning!"

"Shut up Alfred," Isabel spoke, "this is late. Plus you know that I wake up early. You think everyone else is asleep?"

"Most likely, since they are sleeping off the jet lag."

"You know what time is it."

"Oh yes. I'll go first!" he cheered, before racing off to the living room.

"Not if I can get there first!"

* * *

The others were awoken by the loud argument going on in the living room.

"Mon ami, who could that be so early in the morning?"

Francis and Gilbert had met up in the hallway leading to the stairs, pondering on the situation.

"I really don't know," Gilbert answered, wondering what was going on.

"We will wait for the others, then go check it out."

One by one, the rest of the countries came out of their respected rooms, and headed downstairs.

"Fucking bitch ass Donkey be taking my place!"

"Well not my fault you were showing off. Plus I won you! So in your face stupid!"

The surprise the group took when they had arrived in the living room. There sprawled on the floor were Isabel and Alfred, remote controls in their hands, and a scoreboard placed on the screen. It was obvious that one of them had won the other, for their gazes showed intense emotion of revenge.

Ludwig cleared his throat to stop the brawl about to happen. Both stared in utter confusion at the group, them stood up from their position, Isabel walking to the system and turning it off.

"So it was about time you all woke up! I have been waiting for you for the past four hours!" she tooted, running off into the kitchen, getting breakfast ready.

"But it is barely ten!" one of them shouted

"Yeah, that's late, especially for what we are doing today!" she yelled from the kitchen as the countries made their way to the dining hall. The smell of food quickly made its way to the dining hall, causing the other country's stomach growl with protest.

"What are we doing today Isabel-san?"

* * *

"Why did I even agree to this dare?"

After much coaxing, Isabel had influenced them to go along with her, to an unknown location. But Alfred knew where they were going.

Really, he should have told them where they were going.

They were going to the same place in which he had gone to learn Spanish.

And she was the teacher.

**So that is the first part of this arc. I am only making this arc in two parts. for sure no more than three chapters. See you in a few! **


	8. Chapter 8

**I feel like the worst person right now. Besides the depression that hit me for a while, school being a bitch, and a mental shut-down (literally, I had so many ideas for this story that my brain decided to shut down), I really feel super sorry for not getting this thing up earlier. So for a little treat, some amazing back-story between Alfred and Isabel. Sorry again for the many flashbacks. Many flashbacks. Many thanks to SilverInkPen for the horse's name! And Kitten1313, you may be a tad bit surprised on this one. Just a little bit.**

* * *

**Flashback to earlier this day.**

"Alfred, I have a bet for you!"

This was what Isabel had claimed after reaching the living room first. Of course, being the so called hero, knowing full well that he was about to lose to this bet, he went along with it.

"Alright, what is it?"

"I bet you that I can beat you at Mario Kart 8. If I win, you must come along with me today. If you win, you get to choose anything that you want to do with me."

With that same phrase, she had managed to walk her way over to Alfred's location, pressing her body extremely close up to his, in which it would make any man uncomfortable.

Including Alfred.

Even after all of these years, even after he had made himself immune to any woman's charm, he kept on falling for hers.

Her night clothes and dishevel hair only made it worse

He swore mentally that she had drugged him up with some kind of potion.

With sweat dripping down his face he managed to stutter out, "Okay d-dude!"

"Alright, here you go," she offered him a light blue controller, waving it around in front of his face, still keeping her position.

"Don't be chicken now."

**End of Flashback**

* * *

So now, here he was, sitting in the back of a pickup truck, wandering the empty terrain that was once a thriving village.

The rest of the countries had no clue as to what was going on, and he was happy that they were naive to what was going on.

As his eyes roamed back on the road, his mind was relished with the memory of seeing her for the first time.

* * *

**Flashback of 200 years**

He was an adventurer, someone who wanted to explore the world.

His name was Alfred F. Jones, and he was the original cowboy.

And with the new rumored land settling farther West, he was about ready.

He saddled up his horse, Private, and rode out to the new adventures that awaited him.

The sun had set when Alfred decided that he would settle down for the night. His eyes swept across the horizon, looking for a decent place to sleep in.

He was quite startled by the small cabin peeking out in the distance, its bright light flickering through the small window.

He shook his head, trying to believe that this was all an allusion to his head, that a small cabin like so could not have been built in the midst of the prairie.

He went into full gallop, hoping that the cabin was real and not a figment of his imagination, and wishing that these people were not asleep.

He stopped his horse a couple of yards away from the house, in order to not alert the occupants of the house.

He discreetly made his way onto the small porch, directly going for the door.

Ridiculous to say that the tenant opened it before him.

"¿Te conozco? ¿Quíen eres?"

The petite figure of an auburn haired woman stood directly at the door, her shotgun ready in her hand. In brief, her stare was set to kill.

So the best thing he could do was to raise his hands in defeat.

**End of Flashback**

* * *

He blissfully sighed at the memory that brought him up to this day. Back then, he knew she had her sight, that everything was just beautiful for her. Her strong will, her determination, her uniqueness, it was what he fell in love with. It was why he taught her some English, in which in change she taught him some Spanish.

She was the first person he truly wanted to be with for the rest of his life.

What had made him change his mind was when he figured out that she was a country.

* * *

**New Flashback**

"¡Y que piensas que estoy haciendo! ¡Tú piensas que siempre es fácil!"

That was what he heard from the other side of the door.

He had just arrived from being away for a month, taking care of business, and leading new adventurers into the foreign and arid lands.

He was more than ready to meet up with Isabel. But he stopped when he caught her raised voice from the door, followed by the hushed voice of his brother-in-law.

"Mira, yo se que es difícil de decirle que tu eres el país de México, ¡pero el tiene que saber!"

His eyes widened with shock. She was a country? Let alone Mexico? And she was the one whom is letting him stay in the area and letting other settlers come in?

Without knocking, he opened the door, the shock still etched in his features.

"Mi amor, you are home," she articulated, her accent flowing with her English.

"Why didn't you tell me, Isabel? Why?"

"Porque tenía miedo," she whispered, staring at the floor. This only made the anger bubble faster. She let him stay, only because she was afraid of him. Did she not know that he was a country too? Is she acting weak because that was the- you know what forget it, he told himself. You are overthinking it.

"It's okay, darling. ¿Y como has estado?"

"Bien, pero te tengo noticias."

"¿Y que es?"

"Estoy embarazada. Y son gemelos."

**End of Flashback**

* * *

She was a truly amazing mother when she had the personifications of New Mexico and Texas under her wing. They were a joyful family of 10 children before the war broke out.

All due to Gabriel's stupid ass.

He had found him bleeding out one afternoon, so he quickly took him down to his mother, who worked rapidly to save her son.

And yes, he did live, but did not remember who he was, or his mother for that fact. Gabriel only felt attachment to his father, but it became worse.

Much, much worse.

He began to hate his own mother, and joined his union.

He proceeded to kidnap his brothers and sisters, leaving two of the Californian triplets behind.

This was what created the war. The Mexican-American War.

"We are here!"

Alfred shook himself of the negative thoughts, and put on his bright smile, knowing that soon his patience was about to run thin.

"¡Abuela! ¡Abuela!"

"¡Hola!"

Welcome to Soto's: the only school he knew was full of personified regions and cities from all across Mexico.

And he was the teacher's aid.


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, yes, I do realize that I am leaving out many details and that I am an inconsistent updater to this story, but the first thing is that these details will all clear out as the story moves on, and the second thing is that summer is here so I might change it to every week, (that is if life doesn't get thrown my way). This might be my biggest chapter that I have written so far. PS Trigger warnings for this chapter: self-harm to a drastic degree, and many feels.**

* * *

"Okay, todos a sus lugares."

_Oh my god,_ Alfred thought. He kept repeating this to himself over and over, just to keep himself in check. Why?

Well, it helps that you have you children in the mix too.

The could never mistaken the aquamarine eyes that the youngest two of the Californian triplets bore. Both had the same looks as the eldest brother did, expect that they had tints of green in their irises, while California had hints of a navy blue.

"¡Buenos días!"

"¡Buenos días!" the class of twenty chorused back.

"Como pueden ver, tenemos visitas. Son otros países que estan aquí para buscar por Guerrero. Van aprender español. ¿Esta bien?"

"Sí ma."

"Todos par'iba, que voy a mezclarlos a todos."

"Pero ma, no-"

"Que pero ni que ocho cuartos, andale."

* * *

"Ahora que ya estan listos, los del primer grado, la tarea."

For the next ten minutes, she called out each grade level, and collected what homework she had left them. Alfred was situated in the front of the runned down classroom, tranquil eyes staring out at the tin ceiling. He was already dying of boredom.

"Erm, Isaberr, why are we here? Why in this runned down school next to _others_?"

"You wanna die within the first week you out there?"

The attending countries shook their heads furiously.

"Okay, so you need to learn Spanish before you set foot out there, because they show no mercy."

"Who the bloody hell are willing to try to kill us?"

"Who the bloody hell would try to kidnap a personified state?" she mimicked him,"I really wonder could possibly take in a personified state and try to ask for a ransom. Do you know? Oh wait you don't. Oops, perdón por no avisarte, idiota."

Hooting laughter was ringing throughout the classroom, namely from the ones who understood what she was saying. Alfred was clearly trying to hide the smile that had painted onto his face after his ex had insulted his former guardian. Arthur's face had acquired a light shade of pink as he looked on around the room to the unfamiliar faces laughing at his question.

"¡Ya, esta bien! Leave him alone. He has many things to learn, like for example, handling a gun. But I do believe he has that down at least, unlike his culinary skills that he has, wait let me rephrase that: more like the skills he doesn't have. And forgive me if I sound so rude, but it comes with the instability my country faces. Borderline personality disorder, just for your information. Anyway," she continued to jabber on, putting a bright smile on her face," empezamos con la matemáticas, Del primer grado, haz los ejercicios de la página 154..."

* * *

"Desafortunadamente para mis niños, van a tener que empezar desde el principio, which sucks for you, unless you want to go to on your break..."

"¡Almuerzo!"

"Alright, you have one hour break, now go. You too Alfred, you deserve it."

Alfred's eyes sparkled with life as he heard about the temporary end of his torture, and ushered out of the room along with the other children, while the countries were the last ones to leave.

As the last person left the door, Isabel sighed contently for the last time before her mind went blank.

* * *

Something that the many countries decided that they should do was to become familiar with their younger classmates.

They were in for an amazing surprise.

Ivan was having the time of his life hanging around his (off screen: What would it be?_ Great-great grandchildren? Maybe more, I really do not know._ Okay thanks) great-great grandchildren, giving them piggy-backs and being taught how to climb trees by the Baja California's. Many of the other countries were very much afraid for the smaller personifications, and very surprised that the so-called "scary" nation being so kind around others, but soon were put off by their own adventures.

Kiku's eyes widened when at least half came running up to him, constantly switching from, "Oppa!" to "Dàgē!" every minute, not believing what he had heard. It later was confessed that Southern Korea and China had in fact lodged in with Isabel for many years, and had kids of their own among her children.

The Germanics (Off-screen: Okay those would be four people- Austria, The German brothers, and Switzerland) had some bonding time with the few relatives they had, shocked that the littles even remembered who they were, and a fascination with music and guns.

France was able to find a child, no older than a couple of decades, so around 5 in mortal years, roaming around, strawberry blonde hair bouncing slightly as she tried to jump and free a ball, unfortunately stuck in the highest part of an orange bush. Carefully, since he did not want to add dirt on his latest designer outfit, he grabbed her ball, and handed it back. Royal blue eyes gleamed with happiness, as she blurted out the one phrase that he had never expected in his life: "Merci, pépé!"

Arthur and Alfred were having their much awaited talk, Arthur scolding Alfred on not telling him that he had, in fact, gone out with another country, let alone have kids with her. He would have continued to rant if it were not for a 3 year old boy hobbling his way over, chubby legs fumbling across the rugged terrain. His eyes were a cross between lime-green and bright blue, curly waves of murky brown shining in the sunlight. He continued to walk over to them, bearing a cheerful smile across his face. Once he managed to reach his destination without tripping, he crawled up into Alfred's lap, curled up in his arms, and promptly fell asleep. Alfred was far used to the gesture his nephew gave him, but Arthur was far more than perplexed to Alfred's loving stare at the boy. Alfred decided that it was time to go back into the classroom, so he carefully handed this nephew over to his former guardian, and rushed over to classroom, sensing that something was not right. Arthur stared down at the sleeping child, and a series of memories flashed behind his eyes. Remembering those memories brought back so much heartbreak, which the only thing he could possibly do was to let the tears slide off of his face, landing onto the sleeping babe.

* * *

What called out to Alfred to return to the classroom was the faint set of lyrics he heard in his mind, sung from the particular woman that was still in the classroom: _I'll burn this whole world down. I need some peace of mind, no fear of what's behind. You think you've won this fight, you've only lost your mind._

He quickly made his way up into the shabby cottage, only to find a living nightmare.

Blood, so much blood that made his knees weak and made him collapse. And there she was, slumped next to the wall, at least half a dozen blades next to her form, and various cuts of various depths, the most noticeable across her cheekbones, to the point of seeing bone. Alfred mustered all of his strength to keep in his food. What made it worse was the lyrics now thundering through his mind: _When all's said and done, I will be the one to leave you in your misery and hate what you've become._

_Oh God_, he told himself, _was it really that bad? _

"Why Alfred? You left me alone, everyone does, but I trusted you, I trusted you to stay with me, since I knew you were a country. Why the anger when you found out the truth of my immortality? You have made me this monster I never wanted to be, you bastard. Even France treated me better with our separation, while you treated me like a toy: Only for your own good," she croaked, salty tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

Alfred began to ponder on her last question. He had no reason to have been mad with her, she was being truthful, but no, the American within him had told him to refuse this fact. It broke his heart to see her in such a state, even more that he was the cause of it all.

But he could not rally up an excuse to give to her, so he went with the alternative route,"Look, Isabel, I am really sorry for leaving you like that, so abruptly, I loved you, I really did, but that was so long ago, when I was nothing more that a foolish young nation," His voice came down to a softer tone,"But I never stopped admiring you, your strength to put up with all of the bullshit your government and your people throw at you, and how you act like a mother hen around everyone you care for. So now I beg of you, will you forgive me?"

She stared at him lovingly, her heart fluttering with an old flame she hasn't felt for many centuries to the man that knelt before her at a distance off. Sadly, she thought, their love would never be the same as the passion they both shared many decades ago, and without much thought she replied to him,"Yes Alfred, I forgive you."

His heart swelled up with unimaginable feelings as he rushed over to her, and began to fix her wounds.

* * *

As lunchtime came to an end, and everyone returned to the classroom, they could not ignore the large puddle of red in a corner of the room, and the new bond between the teaching countries. They decided not to question anything, least they ignite an angered flame within her.

* * *

It was now early November when Isabel determined that her newest students knew just enough about her countryin order to investigate the disappearance of the 43 students, including her daughter, so she sent them home to receive the necessary break from the batshit crazy she was. She offered them two months, but they decided just one month break since they had really enjoyed her company and wanted to help her. They came up with their own schedules to come back as long as their bosses allowed them to.

In the end, she had no problem with that.

* * *

***still sweating* That took me forever! Trust me, I have no plans to abandon this story, just give me more time to update. Originality doesn't just pop in like a Flying Mint Bunny you know. Song mentioned was **_Had Enough_** by **_Breaking Benjamin_**. Here are some fun facts I thought I should start doing for each chapter:**

_Borderline personality disorder is an actual thing. From what my auntie tells me (she's a psychologist) bpd is ten times worse than being bipolar. And it sucks. It really does. Look up the symptoms._

_Many Koreans live in Central Mexico, while many of the Chinese population live in northern Mexico._

_ At least 35% of Mexico City's population are white Americans._

_Many Europeans moved into Mexico during the 20th century._

**Anything else you want to know about me or the story? Ask away!**


	10. Chapter 10

**So if I do remember correctly, Chespirito should have died the day after Thanksgiving. And if you don't know who Chespirito is, I think we have a problem. A big one. Anyway, our Isabel and many of the countries, surprisingly including America, are still upset over his death. Also, the song Error by VIXX fits with this chapter, so I will link it on my profile. Oh, yeah, a bit more backstory, this time between France and Mexico, with a bit of fluff at the end. I promise next chapter should start with the investigations. Enjoy the fluff while you can, 'cuz is going to get much darker.**

* * *

It is now mid-December, and Isabel was pacing around in the house her missing daughter had built for her while she visited her with plans for her state. She heard how the cars passed by, the birds chirping, the clear skies rolling around lazy clouds.

But she felt so empty.

Something had been torn out of her, her heart running with fear for her daughter. Her mind automatically conjured gruesome scenes, all involving death.

Talking about death...

Her best friend had passed away in his sleep. She remembered vividly when she met him. He was a bright student in middle school, and always trying to cheer everyone up, making jokes here and there, and right away she knew he was going to be someone who would change the world. She was there when he did his first screen-play of _El Chavo del Ocho_, how she saw his determined actions, joy leaking from his sparkling eyes, and again she felt this gut feeling that he would entertain many generations of families to come.

And here she was, still weeping for his death, reminiscing, cherishing those memories.

She heard the thunder rolling overhead, and she became aware of her surroundings.

They should be coming here to Iguala.

The first round of countries that had volunteered are the German brothers and France. Of all people France.

She didn't mind him being one of the first countries to help out. He taught her so many things, and slowly she fell in love with him (for many years she thought she just felt attraction to him because of the horrid divorce with America, and how Gabriel "found" many of her children dead, because of "wolves and coyotes"). The only thing she hated about him was the backlash he had while they were together. He almost killed one of her grandchildren, so she used magic in order to save Puebla. That magic came with a price, and boom, eyesight gone within days of saving him. With her sight gone, Francis (by orders of his boss, she later found out) left her, with many apologies, kisses, and hugs.

About a week after, she found out she was pregnant with his child, but she was afraid to go after him, due to the impending war that could have happened at any given moment between the two countries.

In the end, she had their child, and named her after someone she had met with France: Maria Elena.

Knocks came from the front door, so she walked from the kitchen to the door, peaking at the bone-soaked figures of her visitors. A small grin pecked at her lips as she opened the door. Gilbert immediately gave her a smile, while Ludwig gave her a nod of recognition.

But France was shaking down to the bone

"Do you know what's wrong?"

"Nope, he suddenly began shaking, and muttering nonsense," explain Gilbert. That brought her smile to a frown.

"Something's not right," she murmured. She quickly shook her head, showed the German brothers their own guest rooms, and carefully (mind you carefully, since she is dragging someone along with her while she goes up a flight of stairs) she takes Francis to her bedroom.

She nimbly set him down on her bed, while she looked around in her drawers for the stash of clothes that could possibly fit him. Once she was content with the clothes she had found him, she went to go check if he was still awake.

"Francis, mi amor, me escuchas?"

"Y-yes, but it-t's s-so cold," he spoke between chattering teeth.

She placed her hand against his forehead, brushing away some strands of golden hair from his face. This brought concern across the maiden's face.

"You are burning up," was her statement. She muttered under her breath, "Violence of some kind."

An idea popped into her head, "Francis, we'll go take a bath, yes?"

He simply nodded his head. She turned on her heel and walked into her adjoining bathroom, feeling for the faucet that would turn on the water for the bathtub. She let it run on lukewarm until she heard it was half full, and turned it off. She returned to the room, grabbed a towel, his clothes, and walked to her bed, helped Francis sit up, slipped her arm under his for support, and began her trek to the bathroom.

Just as she sat him upon the lid of the toilet, she began to undress him, looking for any physical damage. As soon as she assisted him by removing all of his clothes, and made sure he had no physical injuries, she guided him to the waiting bathtub. As soon as he had set foot inside the water he began to complain.

"It-it's cold," he whined trying to get his feet out of the water. Isabel sighed, and after much trouble, she successfully had him in the tub. Finding a small container inside the closest drawer, she began to scoop up water and pour on his head, repeating the same action until his hair was drenched. She grabbed the shampoo bottle, squirted some onto the palm of her hand, and began lathering it in his hair, massaging his scalp. Once she believed that she was done, she rinsed out the shampoo in the same fashion. She felt for the bar of soap, lathered up her hands, and began washing up his body, fully aware of the reaction that she can bring out of him.

But no, he laid there, perfectly still, letting himself to enjoy the touch of the woman he never thought he'd see again. He always hated to admit it to himself, but he still has a spark running through his veins at the sound of her voice.

Sadly its true. He felt so bad for leaving her alone. It was so heartbreaking for him. He was the country of love for fuck's sake.

Despite this strong affection for her, he recognized that he needed to let go of all of his emotions toward her. That this so-called love was nothing but an error.

He signed, becoming conscious that Isabel was trying to help him out of the tub. He idly held out his hand for her to take, trying to avoid slipping on her tile floor.

After she helped him into new fresh clothes, she hauled him back into the bedroom, and dropped him onto her bed. She crawled in with him, and covered themselves with a thin sheet. France, startled by the sudden action, blurted out, "Why-y are you-u here?"

"You're sick, I can't leave you alone. Plus, what if you get worse? I need to be here with you just in case. For me, it helps if I cuddle with someone while I get sick with_ this,_" she motioned to the small scars across her arms," so I think it'll work the same for you."

He groaned as he felt a pounding headache starting to form. She took notice in this and whispered," Try and go to sleep, I'll take care of you. I promise."

As he drifted to sleep, Isabel applied small amounts of healing magic to help soothe the headache by working her fingers in his golden mane. She quietly realized that she would have to sacrifice something for the use of magic, so she began to think about something she could possibly offer.

She ended up falling asleep, curled up in the arms of her ex-lover, before she made her wish.

* * *

**_Fun Facts!_**

_1)For me, it helps a lot with the cuddling thing. Don't ask why._

_2)If you run your hand through my hair, it relaxes me so much that i could fall asleep if you do it for a long time. Again, don't ask why._

_3)Their separation is about the battle of Puebla on May 5th, no its not Mexico's independence day. The day the french soldiers attacked an undefended city, in which they fought back with the little weaponry they had, and won. Puebla is located just a bit off of Mexico City._

**Any questions you wanna ask me? Ask away!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Yes i know, i have called myself the shittiest updater ever. Give me an award right now. Anyway, for your convenience, all monologue in Spanish has been translated for you. You will find it in _italics_. Review to get my lazy arse up yeah?**

* * *

**_Next morning_**

"Fuck my life right now."

"What? You tired already? It's only been three months."

"Only been three months!"

It was clearly a day Gabriel felt like dissing people, for his own enjoyment. Today's target was his dear sister.

"What? I brought you to my home to work as my maid, at least you could have said 'thank you for not letting me starve' or something among the lines like that."

"To you? Never. I'd rather sell my soul to the devil than to be around a pathetic brat who wants the attention of his mother so badly that he goes off and kidnaps his half-sister."

"Yeah sure, but don't you have a job to do?"

"You know what? Vete al infierno."

**_Elsewhere_**

Isabel woke up the following morning at dawn, but felt to lazy to get up. She wanted to stay in the eternal warmth of her bed, to be forever cuddled in the arms of the person sharing her bed.

_Wait, what? _

She slowly ran her fingers through the hair of the dormant person next to her, and nearly tumbled out of bed when she figured out who it was.

_Holy shit, the fuck? Was I drunk? What the fuck happened? Why the fuck is France cuddling with me? What the fuck is going on? _was her immediate train of thought at the revelation. The memories of the previous night caught up to her, and she let out a sigh of relief, and slowly crawled up out of the bed, trying to avoid waking up her visitor. Fortunately for her, he still remained dormant.

She crawled out of her room, and tiptoed as best she could down the stairs to keep the rest of her visitors from waking up. Sadly for her, she did not pick up on the other occupant who was awake.

"Hmm, hold on, I thought I just had a fresh chicken in the fridge," she mumbled to herself, rummaging through her fridge, hoping that she did indeed had the chicken she had killed and gutted before her guests had arrived the day prior. At last, she found it in a large bowl with the said chicken, and went back to the treasure hunt for the rest of the ingredients. As she was trying to reach some dried parsley on a shelf, she felt sturdy hands around her waist, attempting to push her upwards to reach the flask. She nearly sent a knife through the person's chest, if it were not for the deep rumble of a voice that alerted her of the person's identity.

_"It's me Isabel, Ludwig."_

Just the thought of nearly killing her friend has put her through shock. She gave him a gentle shove on his shoulder, just to make sure it was him and not some imposter, though she should have noticed the accent that bled heavily through his Spanish, and let an audible sigh escape her lips.

_"You really need to learn not to spook a blind woman like that. I could have killed you."_

_"But you didn't,"_ he sounded extremely smug with that phrase, but she didn't say anything about it. She suspected that his older brother's antics have finally rubbed off on him.

"_I could have__, and it would have been bad. Next time, stop being a spy and make some noise. Geez, and I thought I was having a nice quiet morning. By the way, why are you up early? I was expecting you in another hour."_

She heard how his feet shifted uncomfortably under his own weight. She feared she had hit a touchy subject, so she quickly apologized for her harshness.

_"Look, I'm sorry if I-"_

_"Don't apologize," _he cut her off _" I woke up a bit before you arrived down here__. Nightmares," _he finished off softly.

"Oh."

A moment of silence followed, both of them had their heads tilted to the floor, lost into their own thoughts.

And then Gilbert came into the scene.

_"Was I interrupting something here?"_

Isabel's head shot straight up to "look" at Gilbert.

_"If interrupting you mean by keeping me away from my cooking, then yes you have, sir."_

Gilbert let himself chuckle, "_You know what I meant. So how's Francis?"_

_"Much better. I checked him up this morning and his fever was gone. He is most likely sleeping right now. Checked global news this morning and found that there has been a terrorist attack-"_

She was cut off by a sudden cough attack. It shook her down to the core, leaving her legs to feel weak. She fell into a heap, quickly alerting the bystanders into action. Gilbert rushed to her side, propped her up, and gave her small pats on her back, hoping that the coughs would go away. Ludwig knelt beside her, glass of water in his hand.

"Get...away...now."

By then it was too late.

Francis stared in horror as he reached the kitchen. It all seemed to go in slow motion. He saw how with the next heave, small specks of blood flew of of her mouth, the looks of his friend and brother in shock and panic. Francis doesn't remember how he rushed to her side so quickly, he knew it just happened.

The coughing went way as soon as it came, leaving little trace that it had happened.

_"What the hell happened? Isabel, explain," _Francis demanded.

"Well, it was the magic. It always backfires one way or another, most of the time I get to choose how it will backfire, but like right now, it can come up like this episode. We have to get ready to search today."

"And where would you like to search?" Ludwig asked, while helping her off the floor.

"I have a friend who saw everything happen, and she has been worried sick about them. She's one of my children's godmother, so just ask her, and move out to see if we can find any kind of evidence around her house. I'll call up on Alfred later and see if he's found anything suspicious. How about it?"

"We can ask Roderich if he wouldn't mind running some DNA tests once we find any kind of evidence," Gilbert piped up.

"That'll work as well. Alright, let me finish breakfast, and I'll call you down once I'm done."

_Later_

_"Hello? __You in here?"_

_"Hey Isabel! How are you?"_

After introducing themselves to her friend, they took a set into Rosa's living room

_"There are two dead because of it. I don't know what happened,__ but I do happen to have the video recording on the camera you had installed months ago. Something might pop up there."_

She was about to answer when her phone went off.

_"I'll be back,"_ Isabel replied as she walked out of the door, cellphone by her ear. It was a while before she came back, while a grin from ear to ear.

_"We have a job to do!"_


	12. Chapter 12

_**"We have a job to do!"**_

"Okay, now the whole plan is that you will act as my bodyguards, and you will be my boyfriend. Make something up, say you're part of some European mafia group or something. I could care less."

It was the end of the month of December, and they were getting ready for a New Year Eve party, but it's not just any party.

Oh no, it happens to be the "criminal" party of the year.

"Just do it dammit. You'll be gone by tomorrow anyway. Just one last favor."

"Fine," Francis muttered, not looking forward to being the boyfriend. Funny how things change when roles become reversed.

* * *

"Padre nuestro que estás en el cielo..."

It was another day with the nightmare of a brother.

Another day in which she prayed that her mother would figure out where she was.

Her step dad had surprisingly passed by her brother's house, looking for her, or so she has heard, but completely ignored her every time he passed by her.

She knew that looking for help from him at this point in time would be helpless.

"... No nos dejes caer en la tentación y líbranos del mal. Amen."

She stood up from kneeling by her bed in her quarters, and let out a sigh.

"I'm counting on you, mamí."

* * *

Loud music blasted away from the live performance of some group Francis forgot the name of. He felt very vulnerable out in this festivity.

It didn't help when he saw everyone holding some kind of pistol, whether hand-held or AK47.

He glanced again at his friend, the same worry etched in his features.

Overall, he was having the time of his life. Everyone looked up to him for handling some French mafia thing (he made up that he lead the strike on the French reporters behind the scenes), and the drinks here were great.

He knew that eventually shit was going to hit the fan, but he didn't care at this point.

While Isabel was out chatting with some of her buddies, she heard whispers from another group nearby.

_"... Its wasn't that difficult. They were terrified!"_

She excused herself from her friends, and walked over to the group, anxious to hear what else was in store.

_"Who do you speak of?" _she asked, faking indifference on the matter.

_"¡La Mexicana! A pleasure to finally meet you! We are-"_

_"Cut the crap! Who were you speaking of?!"_

The individuals of the group jumped as she snapped, and quickly blurted out what they were talking about.

_"A-About the students. They were massacred just a few days ago and-"_

Isabel grew furious as soon as they mentioned 'massacred',_"Who. Was. It?"_

_"We don't know what you-"_

_"Who was it! The people who contracted you for the job? Who!?"_

As soon as she finished speaking, she had pulled out a Taurus PT99 from its holster on her hip. The world around them stopped, and watched on, slightly eager to see the legend in action.

_"We can't give that informat-."_

_"You better tell me who the fuck it was! Either you tell me, or you die!" _she shouted, shaking her gun, indicating that she wasn't playing around.

_"His criminal name is Dante's Inferno! We do not now his real name! That's all we know! Now please put that away!"_

She set the gun back into her hostler, and grabbed a handful of the man's shirt, and dragged him down, to the point where his eyes stared straight into her own, and she began to speak, _"Listen up you piece of shit; you are speaking of my daughter. She was caught up in the crossfire of that little stunt you pulled. If I find her dead, you will find yourself dead. Am I clear?"_

His eyes flickered with fear as he whispered, _"O-okay..."_

Isabel felt her eyes blaze with more fire, _"What was that?! I. Can't. Hear. You!"_

He visibly flinched with her outburst, and said it louder, _"Okay!"_

_"Damned right," _she spat, shoved him back. He scrambled away, followed by his so-called friends.

_"Hey! The countdown has begun!"_

The tension that had built up dissolved with the announcement of the final, precious seconds of 2014. As she counted down with the rest of the crowd, her mind quickly set to work with this new information.

* * *

Six months have passed since that event. Since then, she has not stopped working. Since the discovery, she's been working her ass off, gathering intel from the governments around her.

But every time, they ended up empty-handed.

She was at the end of her line now, the itch to grab her best tequila bottle and down it on the spot growing when she received news. The news came in on a Saturday evening, from her uncle who was 'checking up' throughout the countries (he refused to say he was spying) when he found something. Something that could possibly keep his niece from trouble. He quickly typed up an email with the following:

_Isabel, I found the so-called Dante's Inferno. Coordinates lead to an isolated area in Texas. Hope this gives you a bit of hope to cling onto. Just bought my plane ticket, expect me to be there by the end of the week. See you then._

With the click of a button, he sent the message and rushed off to pack his bags.

As soon as she heard the message that the email contained and the coordinates, she called her sister in the States.

"Luz! Good to hear of you! How have you been?"

They chatted for a while before she asked her of the favor.

"How do you expect me without the American bastard knowing?"

"Florida, please. I just need to know who lives there. That's all. Can you do that for me?"

A sigh came in through the other side of the line, "Okay fine. What are the coordinates?"

* * *

Gabriel felt chills run down his spine. This was the third time this week that happened, and his gut is telling him something big is happening and soon.

He just didn't know what.

* * *

_Click Clack click clack_

The noise was driving him up the walls. Someone was up and about, doing something they probably shouldn't be doing. He swung his legs to the edge of the bed an stood up. Rubbing his eyes, he slipped on his slippers and quietly walked out of his room. He followed that sound, leading his to the room above his. A faint light shimmered from under the door, advising him that its occupant was still awake. He cracked open the door, taking a peep at the woman typing away at the computer. From what he could see, there were maps, coordinates, and multiple photographs of people. He decided it was best to intervene.

"Whatcha doing up this late, Luz?"

The figured jumped from her chair and shut down all of the applications she had running, leaving the home screen showing.

"N-nothing important A-alfred."

"You don't need to lie to me Luz. Someone asked you to find out who lives in a certain location. Who was it now, eh?"

"I can't give you that information, bastard. All of my clients are kept private. You know that's how the business goes."

"Not when it involves some of my citizens," he shot back, "that will get you a death sentence for treason."

"I-I can't. I told her that I wasn't going to let you k-know."

"Who is she?!" he all but whisper-shouted, afraid to awake up the rest of the residents in the house.

Her eyes grew wide with fear, "It was Isabel, okay?! She received news about her daughter and she wanted me to help. You know I can't leave my sister hanging when my niece is gone."

"Thank you. Now if you can excuse me, I need to buy a plane ticket."

"This is what she wanted to avoid!" she hissed, "she wanted you out of the mess. She doesn't trust you anymore. Not after what happened to Gabe-"

"Don't. Don't go there," he warned, "She's going to need help, all the help she can get and I want to be there."

* * *

Isabel couldn't sleep. She waited anxiously for any news from her sister, pacing back and forth in her room, tripping every so often by bumping into the sparse furniture she had. Finally, the phone rang. She rushed to get the phone in her room, hoping that it was indeed her sister.

Never could she have been more wrong.

"Hello?"

"Isabel, please explain to me as to why you didn't tell me first as soon as you got the news?"

"Alfred, please, I don't need you getting into this mess. Israel is enough. Terrorists are enough, and yet you jump into a mess that doesn't involve you."

"Listen," he sighed, "it may not involve me, but I have the right to know. We are talking about American citizens. Your sister could have been tried for espionage, and that would have not looked well. Plus, I treat her like she's my daughter, I have all of the right to-"

"You don't! That's the thing, you don't. You're not the father! Another country is-"

"Another country? What?"

Isabel groaned, upset that she just confessed a secret she had kept for two hundred years, "Yes another country. So what?"

"The other country should know!" he hissed, "They've been in the dark about the situation-"

"They haven't been 'in the dark' on the situation. They know of it, they don't know that it just happens to be their daughter."

"So who is it?" he insisted.

"You promise you won't tell anyone? It's important that no one else knows."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he spoke.

An uncomfortable paused, followed with the next phrase that he probably shouldn't have been so keen on knowing: "It's Francis, Alfred. France is the father of Maria Elena Soto."

* * *

_**First of all, Happy Anniversary to this story! WOOHOO.**_

_**Second of all, no I'm not dead. School is no chill, and has been sucking up my inspiration as of late for this story. However, hehehe, I may have gotten distracted by another fandom. Ooops.**_

_**And third of all, we are coming to a close. Give or take another seven chapters or so. Might make a sequel. MIGHT, still thinking on it. So did ya like? I hope my writing hasn't gotten worse while I was gone. If it has, shove it up in my face. If you like it, ya know what to do.**_

_**Hopefully, I'll see you around!**_


	13. Chapter 13

Canopies of different shades of green zoomed by as Alfred sat in his car. The clouds above him grew darker with each passing second, threatening to spill its contents. Within minutes, the rain began to downpour. Each fat drop increased the uneasy feeling he felt as the Soto residence came to view.

Was this truly another stupid thing he had done on rash decisions, or was this one of those rare moments when his impulsiveness was the path to follow?

These thoughts drifted away as the car came to a halt in front of the stairs leading to the entrance. A lone figure waited for him, her face looking up, arms embracing the falling rain. He slipped out of the car, opened up the umbrella he had conveniently brought with him, and approached her. She noticed him, and glared at him with her heterochromia eyes.

"Father," she addressed him coldly.

"Good afternoon, Cali," he chided back. This brought a spark of anger into her eyes.

"You don't have the right to call me that. For you, I will always be Baja California Sur. Or Amira. It doesn't matter. They are waiting for you inside."

The house was eerily quiet when he stepped in, other than the servants walking around. He snooped around, asking those few servants if they had seen Isabel around. They answered with a sweet voice, _"She's upstairs. Let me go fetch her."_

He gave his brusque thanks and shuffled his way around the sitting room.

Artifacts from across the ages hung loosely from the wall. Canvas of glorious battles of the past, relics of an ancient civilization, and other trinkets littered the open spaces of shelves and coffee tables.

"Hello America."

He craned his head back, the voice creating instant curiosity within his mind.

_Who is this person?_

For some reason, he felt that this person was familiar to him, but- he could quite place from where. He took another look at him and it clicked within his mind.

_Well shit._

Of all the people, he wasn't quite expecting this person to be here, but he should have, given that this character lived here.

"Ricardo."

This man was the only one possible to quake just about anyone to their knees. Said man was possibly one of the oldest personifications that still roamed the earth. To add on top of that, he can be a_ tad _overprotective of his family.

"I hope you've come to help with the search. My niece is within your country and I hope we have the chance to make up for _past mistakes_."

Alfred scoffed,"I'm the hero. _I_ _know_ what _I'm_ doing."

"Well that's what you said during the Mexican-American War but looked what happened there."

Alfred was shell-shocked, _he went there__, _"Well you could have stopped Spain before he _killed_ your mother."

As seconds passed by, veins began to slowly pop out of Ricardo's face, which turned into hues of violet-red. Steam poured out of his ears and with an almighty roar, he charged at Alfred.

Alfred quickly dodged the incoming projectile, landing a solid punch on the man's ribs. Said ribs snapped with a loud pop, causing his ex brother-in-law to tumble onto the floor. Ricardo coughed up drops of vibrant red, before promptly falling unconscious due to the pain.

That was the scene Isabel, Ivan, Francis, and Antonio walked in on.

"So much for fixing past mistakes," Alfred spat at his unconscious opponent.

* * *

"Of all the things you could have done Ameríca, you outdid yourself!"

Ricardo scolded Alfred after his previous stint, with the rest of the personifications not far behind.

"What the hell? Did you know there could have been another Mexican-American War for this stupidity?"

"Amerique, you need to stop being so inconsiderable."

"Well _sorry._ He did come at me first and-," he defended.

"It doesn't matter if he did come at you," Isabel interjected, "and you should know better than to jump the gun when it comes down to provoked violence. Or need I remind you what happened in Vietnam?"

Silence filled the room, suffocating whomever dared to pass through. With a short huff, Isabel turned on her heel and stormed down the hallway. Francis was the only one who took notice and quickly sauntered off in her direction, leaving the other gentlemen to their respective thoughts.

* * *

_Everything is piling up. The citizens are livid because the government has not tried to search for the other missing students. The countries are upset about me being unable to get myself together, but a country can only take so much. I was raised by my father, who hated my brother and nearly killed him. As soon as I gained my independence, my people revolted against me. The indigenous casted me out. Other countries invaded me at my weakest point of my life. The only country I actually loved betrayed me and-_

Isabel kept running through the pastures, trying to look for any type of inner peace, but finding none. She gave up on running, and collapsed from her emotional turmoil. As she let her tears run freely, she screwed her eyes shut, trying to quell the wave of emotion that threatened to spill out.

_But, what do I tell Francis? He doesn't know that __María Elena is his daughter, and I've no clue how to tell him that-_

"Tell me what?"

_Speak of the devil- "_I have no clue what you-"

"You were mumbling to yourself! And for the past 200 YEARS you decided not to tell me about my daughter. I have as much of a right to look for her and cherish her!"

"For the same goddamned reasons we are arguing now! You came into _my _country uninvited, _raped_me, and _left_! Without so much as a _goodbye_! You wouldn't have cared anyway!"

Lightning cracked overhead, casting its light upon Isabel. It was then that Francis recognized how badly broken her resolve was. Her gaze was glazed over with so many negative emotions, from the past or the present he wasn't sure. He became silent after her confession, unable to fathom her pain.

The rain pelted down harder, hitting her shoulder with the velocity of small rocks. The lightning became much more frequent, and thunder boomed overhead. She shivered, her bones numbing with the weather and the emotions that flowed through her veins. "I need you to know one thing. As weak as I may seem to you right now, I am not. Call me a hypocrite, but I held _this for nearly two hundred years. _This led to the slow crumbling of my country. Sometimes, I needed help, while most of the times I handled it on my own. While the lot of you lean on each other for support, I was betrayed by most of them. I can no longer trust in them. The rest of my brothers and sisters look up to me for help, so I can't burden them with my issues. Do you understand?"

She paused, before continuing, "If anything, you have no right to see her, or even whisper her name. She doesn't know who you are!"

"At least give me the chance to meet her! She can make her own decisions! If she wants to get close to me or if she doesn't want to look at my face again, that is up to her. As sad as I feelin saying this, I admit that she is no longer a little girl. She is a woman who can stand for her own decisions. If she wants me in her life, I'll be more than happy to fill that void. If she doesn't want to look at me again, that's fine. What I don't want is for others to decide for her. At the very least, let me see her."

Thunder clashed louder, shaking the ground beneath their feet. The wind grew with velocity, swaying the leaves and causing the branches to groan from the pressure. She saw as the whites of his eyes grow red and glossy, before he yelled out again, "Look, I know I was a monster then. I know that I caused many people harm, and it took me many years to finally admit it. But, we can't go back to change those mistakes. If we could, then Maria wouldn't have existed. Then, the world would have been very different today. I was horrified to realize what I had done, but I moved on. You need to do the same."

"Move on? As easy it is to say it, I assume," she cleared her throat to get rid of the knot that had formed before continuing, "that it wasn't simple for you. Simply forgetting about the past is not an easy task; not with a history that spans for centuries. Not when betrayal runs deep within that history."

She stood up on wobbly feet, the mud flattening under the soles of her feet. Little puddles formed where the water dripped down from her hair. She took one staggering step forward, the wetness of her clothes sticking to her like a second skin, making the movement of her feet much more mechanical. She inched her way to the lone figure that was standing in the distance. Out of sudden impulse she wrapped her hands around his torso, cherishing his warmth against the brewing storm around them.

"Thank you for trying anyway," she muttered into his chest as the storm became a drizzle, allowing specks of blue to bleed through the clouds overhead.

* * *

**Guess who's alive?! Eh?!**

**To be honest with you guys and galls, I'm falling out just a teensy bit out of the fandom. It's like molecular. Also, I write as a hobby, not something I have time for 24/7, ya know? So it's fine if you yell at me, throw figurative books through your screen and smack me upside the face. But, you can also leave a review around telling me those things!**

**Oh and we are coming to a close! I have planned two more chapters, and then an epilogue. I'll likely someday rewrite this fic due to plot holes, and Mary Sue and all that stuff, but today is not the day.**

**Until next time!**


	14. Important Author's Note! Please Read!

So, I really should have told you guys a month ago about this. In part, the guest reviewer made a point by pointing out all my flaws (thanks by the way!) and I've decided to scrap it all up and restart fresh!

So in the new story, it will involve a kidnapping case, but not to the extent of this disastrous thing. Definite AU so be on the look out!

Also, suggestions would be nice! The story will have a subplot of AmericaIsabel(renamed Amira Reyes) so if you want anything for that, just review here and I'm likely to write it in for you (if you are a guest, put a nickname so I can do shout outs each chapter for your suggestions).

I have no clue when I'm posting the first chapter, as I really would like to finish the story before posting it, and I just finished the first chapter, and with my 1rst yr of university starting up, it might slow down the process, but it will happen!

To add on, I'm probably leaving this story up, just to see who like to read it to get some cringe-worthy moments to make their day better.

Anyway I'll see you then!


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